Tea and Crumpets: A Semblance of a Parody
by CanadianVamp
Summary: What happens when an insane headmaster locks the Hogwarts students and staff out of the castle and forces them to work together? A camping trip? I have no effing clue. My summaries suck, kiddies. It's kinda funny. Read it.
1. Default Chapter

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the poor little scrap that is called 'plot'. Of course, this story doesn't really have one. Oh well.

Chapter 1: Questionable Beginnings

It was the start of another smashing year at Hogwarts. The students were busy shoving food in their mouths and gazing at the enormous ceiling that, for some strange reason, looked like a scene from My Little Pony. (This was because Professor McGonangall had stolen a questionable root from one of the greenhouses and commenced smoking it while she was enchanting the ceiling.) Suddenly, the Headmaster shot up from his chair, fully intending to make an inspirational speech regarding a brand-spankin' new school term. Fortunately, he promptly forgot this and instead made a school-wide project up on the spot.

"Students," his voice boomed across the castle, startling Ron Weasley so bad his face fell right into his pudding (which wasn't really unpleasant for him), "the staff and I have decided to put you through a lovely, possible tortuous, field trip! Everyone, including the staff, house elves, ghosts, questionable magical creatures, students and dust bunnies, is going to participate in a camping/picnic trip!"

The entire staff table, besides Dumbledore, spit their wine out at the same exact time. Hermione would later call that a 'Kodak moment', but only three other people would actually understand what she meant. As everyone was staring, open-mouthed like some sort of rare Amazon fish, at the batty headmaster issued another shocking statement.

"Why, I don't think we should use magic, either!"

And with that, everyone's wand disappeared. Confusion and chaos erupted. Tables were turned over, Neville had a seizure, first-years fainted and Professor Trelawney kept screaming, "THE END IS NEAR! THE APOCALYPSE HAS DAWNED! REPENT YOUR SOULS!", over and over until Severus Snape smacked her with Lucuis Malfoy's mysterious movie pimp cane. Then, it promptly disappeared.

"I forgot to mention no pimp canes allowed," Dumbledore chuckled.

Draco Malfoy and a number of other pureblood bastards suddenly had glum looks on their faces. Their pimp canes had been revoked. They then marched toward their dormitories to owl their daddies and sulk. They didn't even get to the doors leading out of the Great Hall. Someone snapped their fingers and WHAM! The staff, students, ghosts, house elves, dust bunnies and questionable magical creatures were suddenly standing in the middle of a sunny field. Julie Andrews and a number of sunny-faced children were singing gaily and dancing around in circles. The entire group was too shocked to move, except Dean Thomas. He began crooning along and joined the ring of laughing children. Dumbledore giggled and snapped again, leaving Dean with the British nanny of his dreams.

This time they landed directly outside the Hogwarts castle. A dust bunny named Hubert asked the question that was on everyone's mind.

"Do we get cell service here?"

When Hagrid whipped out his brand new Motorola and shook his head sadly, most of the group began to cry. The dust bunnies were especially upset because some of their kinsman were still trapped under the sofas and comfy chairs in the Hufflepuff common room.

"Don't despair, my motley crew," Dumbledore said cheerfully. "The best is yet to come! We're going to draw names from the Sorting Hat to pick your Safety Buddy!"

The whole 'motley crew' groaned in unison, except for Mary Sue #3. She was busy trying to think of why the words 'motley crew' made her think of a mosh pit.

Professor McGonagall produced a canary yellow top hat from a very tipsy Professor Flitwick's ear and handed it over to an extremely cheerful and quite unhinged Dumbledore.

"I never knew you could do Muggle magic, Minerva," Dumbledore said, extremely interested.

"I can do a lot more than Muggle magic, Albus," McGonagall said coyly.

Nearby, a certain Harry Potter threw up his dinner. He had just witnessed a sight more disgusting that Fred and George Weasley eating after a 10 hour Quiditch practice. The flirting of two teachers who were over at least two hills. He continued to regurgitate as Seamus Finnigan whispered things about professors getting it on, which provided Harry with many disturbing images. The poor boy would eventually seek counseling for this incident.

Dumbledore finally finished his conversation with McGonagall after making an agreement to visit her in her tent after lights out. He then took the top hat, turned it upside down and shook it feverishly. A bag of lemon drops, Elton John/Weird Sisters concert tickets and a prescription for Enzyte fell out. He quickly gathered the articles up, stuffed them inside his trailing sparkly maroon cloak and got back into Proclamation Mode.

"Everyone's name is in this hat, excluding the questionable magical creatures. The QMC can roam with whomever they choose as long as they don't dog-ear any book pages. Madam Pince has been complaining about you tricky creatures in my ear for about twenty minutes nonstop." Dumbledore gave a wink at a hippogriff nearby who was smoothing out a crease in a library book and slipping a talon between the pages instead.

"Ahem, as I was saying, everyone will have a Safety Buddy chosen by the hat except QMC. Now, let's see who everyone will be stuck with for a week."

The hat started churning out results faster than a Slurpee machine. Draco Malfoy with Hermione Granger, Ronald Weasley with Cho Chang, Mary Sue #2 with Neville Longbottom, Hagrid with Goyle, Nearly Headless Nick with Hubert the dust bunny. The pairs became more and more ridiculous as time wore on. The most comical to Dumbledore being Harry Potter and Severus Snape.

Soon enough, everyone was paired except for Dumbledore and a house elf named Nudders. Nudders wasn't the brightest pebble on the beach and he simply ran away into the Forbidden Forest to face imminent doom, leaving Dumbledore without a Safety Buddy. Which left the headmaster to be free to oversee how everyone wasn't getting along. Currently, Dumbledore was more interested in wearing Professor Snape's secret collection of man-thongs on his head and attempting to do serious Voldemort impressions. Let it be said that it is very hard to look creepy and foreboding when wearing male stripper underwear atop your head.

Perhaps Nudders was the most intelligent of them all.

A/N: Thank you all for reading. Reviews, flames and snarky insults are much appreciated. I do realize I may not be funny at all and I am probably crazy.

Chocolate frogs for all?

Canadian Vamp


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I don't own HP, or any other related characters except for the dust bunnies...

A/N: Alrightly, folks! The last time you were unfortunate enough to read this sordid fanfcition, everyone had a Safety Buddy. Well, everyone had a 'buddy', but I don't think they were very "safe". WARNING: May be funny. Or may not.

Chapter 2: ...Stripper Poles and Curses

Safety Group # 1 (Draco Malfoy, Hermione Granger):

Hermione Granger was feeling the beginnings of a severe migraine. This only happened when a) she had been studying for 23 hours without a break, b) she had been hit on the head with a two by four, and c) Malfoy was whining incessantly in her ear about the loss of his wimpy-ass pimp cane while she was trying to read a book on ancient Egyptian magic. Currently, option c) was her problem. After about an hour of putting up with the blonde idiot and his enless repititions, the poor girl snapped. She abruptly stood up, got in a batter's stance with the 60 pound hardback book as her bat, and THWACK. Malfoy was unconscious before his perfectly groomed head hit the grass. Smiling to herself triumphantly, Granger set down her book and rolled Malfoy down the hill. She then wondered where the hell the hill had come from. Shrugging it off as some weird ecstasy-snorting Dumbledore concincidence, she flipped open her book to the chapter on tomb curses.

Safety Group # 4 (Hagrid and Goyle):

Trying to strike up a friendly conversation with a half-wit cronie of a Pureblood pansy is tough. Hagrid was beginning to learn that the hard way.His attempts would go something like this:

"So, what do ye' like ter do in yer spare time? Are ye a lover o' creatures or summat?"

"...grunt and/or aggressive hand gesture..."

"...contemplative pause Al' right, then...Do ye like wizard's chess? I play'd a fair few games in my..."

At about the word 'in' during that last sentence, Hagrid would lose heart in conversation because of the menacing gestures coming from the gruff student. Goyle didn't really want to talk. He wanted to find a puny something and beat the living crap out of it. Or get some cupcakes.

Hagrid was saved from trying to come up with something to say next, when a body thumped into him from behind, toppling him forward into the springy turf. (Guess who is it, ladies and gents..)

"Bloody Blast-Ended Skrewts!", Hagrid yelled, spitting out clods of rich earth all over Goyle.

(Goyle was not happy about the dirt in his eyes. He started crying and trying to hit Hagrid at the same time. None of the punches actually hit their target, seeing as Goyle doesn't have 20-20 visoin and has bad hand-eye coordination under pressure.)

Hagrid stood up, causing a miniature earthquake in a nearby molehill, and turned to face his attacker only to find that the semi-conscious body of Draco Malfoy was lying on the ground at his feet.

"Ruddy git! Yer supposed to stay wi' yer buddy!". Hagrid then levitated Malfoy's now-fully-awake-and-complaining-body back up the hill to Hermione, who was highly disapointed to see him again and promptly Petrified him out of spite.

Safety Group # 14 (Harry and Snape):

Harry and Professor Snape were having a staring contest. Similar to the ones they usually have in class, but much more important. They weren't sure why they were doing this, but vague ideas about Harry's dead dad, homemade porn tapes, man thongs and questionable broom practices were hovering around their heads. Literally, hovering. Snape snatched the idea containg porn tapes out of the air and crushed it between his unwashed hands without blinking.

"Hey, that was totally my idea, Snape! And whyareyourhandsdirtythatsreallygross!", Harry burst out, trying to conceal the facts that his eyes were watering and he had blinked under the pretense of sweeping his untidy hair out of his eyes.

"I SAW THAT, POTTER! 450 TRILLION POINTS FROM GRYFFINDOR, YOU CHEATING JAMES LOOK-ALIKE SCUMBAG! AND MY HANDS ARE CLEAN THANK-YOU-VERY-MUCH, THE AUTHOR IS JUST INTENT ON MAKING ME COME ACROSS AS SLIMY AND UNCOUTH AND HOMOSEUXUAL!" Snape was livid and pointing his wand at a dustbunny that was meandering through the grass, now looking quite frightened.

A long silence followed this pronouncement. Harry was feeling like he should be extremely and righteously angry for the sake of his father's honor or something. The dustbunny, who was Hubert's cousin, chewed on the tip of Snape's wand and began emitting green sparks from his bottom.

"...I never implied you were homosexual, Severus. I just meant you had a stripper pole in the dungeons.", the Author remarked quietly. She then slunk away, vowing that she would make Snape pay for disrupting the staring contest that could have made the story contain a sliver of plot.

Harry looked a little crestfallen. He thought he was the only one with a stripper pole at Hogwarts. He had a thought (WOAH) and suddenly perked up.

"Hey, Professor, your stripper pole doesn't light up, does it?", he asked, looking hopeful.

"Of course it does, you idiot. It also emits raunchy strip tunes and fireworks on occasion."

Harry, once again, looked dispirited. His stripper pole (a mere Tasteless Behavior 6868) couldn't compare to Snape's Take It Off 6969.

The poor dustbunny, whose name is irrelevant but it's Havier, exploded, sending marshmallow fluff into Snape's _greasy_ hair. He cursed roundly, tried to curse Harry (but missed, hitting a hipogriff and making it trample Neville) and began shouting something unintelligible about Dumbledore's Enzyte perscription and taking a bath.

Somewhere close by, Dumbledore cackled evilly. His Plan of Unity was going horribly. And that made him strangely happy.

A/N: The end of Ch.2. This chapter is dedicated to my sole reviewer, Henrietta Black van der Snape. You deserve a Pygmy Puff. Or a niffler. I apologize for not updating sooner (I'm horrible) but I promise to update more frequently. Reviews and flames are appreiciated.

The odd author,

Canadian Vamp


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I'm still penniless and destitute, I own nothing. I'm not Jared Leto, Warner Bros, J.K Rowling, R.A. Salvatore or anyone else whose material I am about to massacre.

Warning: This chapter is a bit random and has no real focus. Those of you who brave the storm, I give you props.

Chapter 3: The Chapter with a Drow, But No Real Point

A whistle was heard, cutting through the thoughts of the mainly uncomfortable students and staff of Hogwarts. The magically amplified voice of Dumbledore boomed across the mountains, the seas, the deserts, the plains, the continents, the earth, the **solar system**, **the galaxy, the UNIVERSE, THE-**

Well, it did boom. Sort of. But only those clustered on the school grounds could hear it. Everyone hurried toward the voice, if only to escape their heinous safety buddies.

"WELCOME TO THE SEXY SINGLES HOTLINE", Dumbledore intoned in an attempt at a sexy voice, "BABY, YOU CAN CALL ME JARED LETO, AND I'LL BE YOUR GUIDE TO A FUN AND KINKY NIGHT. YOU CAN RIDE MY SPACESHI-Oh dear me, wrong speech…Just one moment, everyone…."

While the severely unhinged headmaster rifled through his atrocious sparkly, purple leopard-print cloak, most members of the assembled crowd took this opportunity to gag. The exceptions were one confused first-year (he understood after 15 minutes of contemplative thought and then passed out), Hermione Granger (who had heard, but pretended not to and became thoroughly engrossed a 3,000 page 1st edition of Hogwarts, A History: The Revised and Updated Version with Things about the Founding Members That No One Needed to Know), and Minerva McGonagall (who kept whispering things in a sultry voice. Example: "Jared, I can be your Lord of War.", "30 Seconds to Mars in your spaceship, baby. That's one trip I'd take any day.")

The others have been edited because The Author is now disgusted with her own twisted mind and wishes she had a wastebasket to throw up her two Taco Bell tacos into..

"Aha!" Dumbledore yelled triumphantly. "Here it is," the loopy old codger said cheerily, reading off of a small note card, "I called all of you here because there has been an infraction of a very basic rule I set down before we were all transferred outside the castle. I'm afraid to say that one of our cherished little students _performed magic with her wand_ after I specifically said no magic was allowed. Hermione Granger, will you please step forward?"

A collective gasp arose from the students and staff. Birds stopped chirping. Poor, overworked children in third-world countries stopped toiling. Ronald Weasely passed out from shock. Silence filled the air.

_Hermione Granger had broken a rule?_

Of course, Professor Trelawney was the first to break the stunned silence with her ravings.

"THE GRANGER GIRL HAS PERFORMED DARK MAGIC! THE DARK LORD HAS POSSESSED THE CHILD! SHE IS TAINTED AND EVIL!WE ARE ALL BEING CORRUPTED BY HER SINISTER AURA!"

"……WHERE'S MY SHERRY BOTTLE WHEN I NEED IT, GODDAMNIT?"

The last comment she aimed next to her at Mary Sue #1, who had cracked under the pressure of having to put up with Lavender talking about herself for 5 hours straight and smelled strongly of alcohol. Mary Sue was slumped against Severus Snape's Take It Off 6969, telling a sympathetic Hubert about how a boy from THE STATES used her to get to her 75 year-old grandmother. An empty quart of Madame Rosemareta's Unshakable Sherry was dangling limply from her left hand. Trelawney flew at the chit in an alcohol-deprived rage.

Mary Sue was saved from certain death by a man in a strange hooded cloak who swooped in from nowhere and pushed Trelawney into the lake. The insane bat drowned without anyone noticing. She had skipped her swimming lessons during Summer Teacher Training.

After pushing the crazy fraud into the clutches of the bi-polar giant squid, the Strange Man in a Hooded Cloak fell into a defensive stance, scimitars flashing in the sunset, preparing to defend himself from any of the professor's comrades. It's a bit sad for me to report that not a soul stepped forward to challenge the newcomer in retribution for offing Trelawney.

A skinny kid with a camera that weighed more than half of his body saw a shock of white hair and lavender eyes beneath the Strange Man in a Hooded Cloak's hood.

"Holy shit!" Colin Creevy yelled, "it's Drizzt Do'Urden! THE MOST AWESOME DARK ELF EVER! MERLIN'S TROUSER-SNAKE! CAN I HAVE YOUR AUTOGRAPH!"

Immediately a slew of rabid fan girls from all over Europe poured into the Hogwarts grounds through a rip in the space-time continuum, clutching their hands to their bosoms and declaring their love for the outcast drow, mooning over his dark past and sensitive heart and swearing to kill Catti-brie with blunt but deadly implements made from hours of careful labor and the blood of many house-elves…..

**Ok, that's not really what happened. This is what really happened.**

"…CAN I HAVE YOUR AUTOGRAPH!"

The man, now identified as the dark elf Drizzt Do'Urden, stared at the Creevy kid.

"Err…..I'm just going to take my leave of you, esteemed students and staff of witchcraft and wizardry. I have pressing business to attend to."

And with a bewildered look on his dark-skinned face, the drow quickly departed, leaving everyone puzzled.

"Oh, bollocks," sighed Colin dejectedly. He quietly retreated to his collection of books by R.A. Salvatore and started reading one with a picture of someone who looked eerily similar to the Strange Man in a Hooded Cloak.

The school inhabitants slowly returned to their senses (not that that had many left, or to begin with, for that matter). Dumbledore decided to hurry up and get back to reprimanding Miss Granger. He had an appointment with Minerva, a pair of shackles, a whip and a bucket of Jell-O in ten minutes.

"After that, er, interesting encounter with Mr. Creevy's hero, let's get back to a sever matter. Miss Granger, I regret to inform you that you will be punished for breaking Code 752 and a quarter, section B-12, paragraph 13, lines 99-104 of the Hogwarts Non-Magical Field Trip Handbook. Now if you could just come up here and-

"Excuse me, sir; the Handbook has no Code 752 and a quarter. Or any of those other obscure parameters you mentioned," Hermione stated politely, rifling through a molding, ancient text that smelled heavily of library trysts and elderly Niffler dung.

"Very well, I made the numbers up, but I swear by my great-great-great-grandfather Salazar Slyther- loud cough -I mean Nebuchadnezzar Dumbledore, that you are not allowed to use magic on non-magic field trips and that you, Miss Granger, did do such a thing."

"Oh yes, I did use magic. I Petrified Malfoy. I just thought it would be amusing to prove that you were a crazed old man who abused his seat of power by spouting false information and having no one question your motives or accuracy."

"We're peachy, then", the codger smiled "Now, I have to tell you that your Safety Buddy will be thinking up a punishment for using magic, since you did use the spell in question on him. Nothing too ludicrous, Mr. Malfoy."

Draco Malfoy hadn't been listening to the headmaster or Granger during their soapbox speeches. He was, in fact, getting his nails done by a hippogriff named Sky Sinner (a rather murderous beast whose only soft spot was manicures), and only looking up from his copy of WQ (Wizard's Quarterly) when he heard his name.

"What do you think Miss Granger should have to do for Petrifying you, Mr.Malfoy?" Dumbledore asked.

"I think her throat should be slit and her blood drained and boiled for purification. Then, her body should be defiled by anyone desperate enough to touch her or get near her Mudblood stench. Finally, her remains should be chopped and fed to ravenous banshees, who will later be hunted down and cremated, because they have been contaminated by her repulsive essence."

After a long silence, broken only by the sound of Ron being restrained by half of the male student population, Draco, looking slightly put out, sighed.

"Very well, I suppose she could just perform a strip tease, complete with provocative costume, song, and Snape's kick-ass stripper pole in front of the students, staff and other lowly beings."

"That sounds excellent, Mr.Malfoy. Miss Granger, you have an hour to come up with a routine and song. I will conjure a suitable stage for your astounding performance."

Hermione, surprisingly, accepted the task and threw herself into preparing for the test with astounding vigor and excitement.

Author's Note: I had three reviews for that last chapter! wipes imaginary tears away You guys rock. Special regards to Riri, Harry's whore (interesting name choice), and, of course, Henrietta-Black van der Snape. You are the reason I write. You're the light of my life and all that jazz.

Much love,

Canadian Vamp


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